


because i take your lead, take your lead

by splatticus



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splatticus/pseuds/splatticus
Summary: Goal drought.





	because i take your lead, take your lead

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags.
> 
> Title from FKA Twigs' "Kicks."

_He wants to be back here and we want him back here. It will take us 4 or 5 days to get him in the lineup, but as soon as we can, we will get him in._

-

Auston asks William to hold out for a little bit longer, but he doesn't get a response.

"You still with me? Hey. Will," he says. His voice comes off rusty and ill-used, but it's nothing to the way William sounds when he stirs.

"What?" A husky whisper. His eyes are closed, blond hair drenched in sweat and plastered on his forehead. Auston leans over to wipe his brows, but the shift in position makes William clench around Auston's cock and elicits a high, surprised gasp.

Auston gets impossibly harder at the hot grip, his hips moving involuntarily to get deeper, take more, drive William over the cliff's edge--but no. Instinctively, the hand that has been clutching the base of William's cock tightens, enough to prevent him from coming.

"Not yet." 

William whines, his mouth a wet _o_ that never quite closes. One of his hands have stopped clutching the sheets to rest on Auston's wrist, and now the pads of William's fingers are wet from the precome that has pooled there. "Please. I want to come."

"I haven't touched you in months. I want this to last."

"Fuck. But I can't think anymore."

 _Good_ , he thinks, allowing the possessive part of his brain to feel some glee. William has belonged to the world for the better part of the weekend--the media, the front office, the coaching and medical staff. This time he wants William for himself.

He shifts gingerly, planting his free hand on the pillow, right next to William's head. Fingers tangle with overlong hair fanning outward. His thumb reaches out to touch William's beard. He groans when Willy leans over to kiss his arm.

"You have to hold out until I come in you--" A distressed noise, William's cock twitching in his hand. "--okay, baby? You can do that, right? I know you can."

William mutters something in Swedish, probably cursing him out, before one of his arms reaches up to hold on to Auston's triceps, a bruising clamp. He takes a deep breath. "You gotta be quick. I can't take it anymore. Please. Please--"

He continues to beg even as Auston proceeds to fuck him in earnest, his voice a shattered mess. Quick, forceful, just this side of too much but Willy doesn't stop begging so he keeps at it. William's body--so different from the last time he got to touch, the heft and the strength of it--is taking him back after months of voice messages and too-short texts and unspoken things.

He leans his forehead against Willy's shoulder when he feels the orgasm coming on, his body burning up like summer. His hips are pumping without rhythm now, seizing up until he spills into William. Relief is a staggering weight sitting in his chest.

"Go on, babe. Come now," he mumbles so quietly that he's certain William doesn't hear. But he loosens his hold on William's cock, and his winger always does follow split-second signals so well. 

William sobs as he crests over, his hole pulsing against Auston's spent dick. It takes a while until he stops shaking.

-

_As soon as it is in contact and you’ve got to get your legs going and you get stuck out on a shift… He took a penalty the one time he got stuck out on a shift. It’s hard for you. It is going to take some time. We’ll be patient and he has to be._

-

Auston keeps Willy close, even on the road. His shiny new contract specifies that he gets his own room, so Auston makes himself at home in his bed. He does his best to make it worth his while.

William's long fingers are careful but steady as they slide deeper into Auston's hole, causing him to arch. The initial self-consciousness is melting away--he feels fuller than he anticipated, the slickness of the lube a new category of feeling that Auston hasn't quite examined yet. He grunts when William pushes more, feels himself stretch to accommodate William's knuckles.

"Am I doing this right?"

"I'm not calling 911 yet, so I guess," he pants.

He hears William laugh, lightly hitting Auston's thigh with his free hand. "Knock it off. I'm so nervous."

"Just give it to me how you like it."

William does exactly that, dismantles him until he's nothing but a panting vessel of sensation. He keeps arching up to get more of those gloriously agile fingers, lets out a guttural groan when William finally puts in three.

Kissing up the length of Auston's body, he starts to murmur encouraging things, how good Auston feels around his fingers. When Willy's other hand reaches for his cock and starts pumping it steadily, Auston knows he's already far gone. William plants kisses on his thighs as he orgasms. Then he straddles Auston's thighs and jerks off on his stomach.

"Almost a hat trick tonight," William murmurs as he lies on top of Auston later in the afterglow. He skims his mouth across his chest, short darts of tongue around his nipple. The movement mirrors the lazy way his fingers are passing against the still-sensitive rim of Auston's hole, exploring but not purposeful.

The hand that Auston has been carding through Willy's hair pauses; he's unsure how to play this out. "Yeah."

"Marns was so angry after. I told him passing on the backhand gives me more control for one-timers, weirdly enough. You should practice that with him."

They used to do this all the time, hockey as pillow talk. Sometimes Willy would tease him, whispering stats like their shots on goal and plus-minus as he rubs up against Auston, laughing uproariously when Auston tries to hit him with a pillow. 

But the press has been hounding William about his production for multiple games running. He has seen the way his eyes dim with every canned sentence he has to utter. Auston doesn't want to make William dwell on it if he can. Not when they're here.

"I'm tired. Let's not talk about work right now."

"Aus?" William lifts his head and looks at him suspiciously. A quick shimmy to get them face to face, then William is grabbing the sides of his head with both hands. His eyes are serious and intent, not missing a thing. "What's your problem?"

"You're getting lube on my face."

William looks at him for a long time before he rolls his eyes. "Don't pull this false modesty bullshit on me. You know watching you score goals gets me hot."

He does. Last year, they were a feedback loop of horniness and self-satisfaction, praising each other for the assists as they touch. It makes him feel flustered sometimes, how achingly he wants that back.

Auston moves his head to get their faces closer for a kiss. It gets desperate in a split-second, despite their mutual orgasms just moments ago. He sinks his fingernails against the skin of William's back.

"I like that it's our thing." William says as he pulls back and trails biting kisses along Auston's jaw, moving down to his neck his shoulder. "We're not going to let a couple of radio DJs destroy our fun, are we?" 

-

_When I talk to Willy, we never talk about production. You never, ever talk to players about production. You talk to players about the process and working hard and competing and doing the little things in the game that allow you to be successful._

-

Willy assures him everyday. He's frustrated with his production, yes, but he's happy to contribute in other ways. 

But he still takes too long before releasing a shot sometimes, a hesitation borne from nerves and adrenaline, and a traitorous brain blaring _Is this it?_ within the eternity of that second. At least that's what Auston imagines even when his face betrays little. William always clenches his jaw after he's had that kind of shift. Then after the game, he has to stand by his locker room stall and wait for reporters to descend on him, so he can replay the non-goals all over again.

It makes Auston want to get him alone, board him up against the world, smother him beneath his body, sink into him until William is gasping and overwhelmed.

They try all sorts of things in bed--toys, handcuffs that got a little dicey when they worried about wrist injuries, roleplay. When Auston brings up blindfolds William quips, "Oh, that's exactly what I need right now. Sensory deprivation. So I can be alone with my thoughts." 

"So... nah?"

William just blinks slowly at him. "I didn't exactly say nah, baby."

Now, he's a few steps away from his bed, observing a kneeling William. He's naked save for the silk tie around his eyes. Auston can spend a day just watching him like this--the confidence of his posture, shoulders thrown back almost carelessly, inviting attention. His cock is already hard, flushed and beautiful as it's angled towards his flat, tanned abs. A game plan is already coalescing in Auston's mind, his desire clawing impatiently in his chest. He wants William insensate and begging for him.

"Marco," Auston calls out, trying to break the honey-thick tension. It makes William giggle and turn his head towards Auston's voice.

Auston walks around the bed as silently as he can until he's directly behind William, before planting a kiss on the base of his neck. He feels William twitch against his lips, hears the hitch in his breath. As he kisses a slow path down the dip of his spine, he grasps William's right thigh, coaxing him to widen his stance. William wobbles a bit from his kneeling position, his hands jerking up as he tries to balance.

"What are you doing?"

"You look so good like this."

He moves down further, bending as he alternates between bites and sucking kisses over the swell of William's ass. The muscle is firm against his teeth--William has carved himself this body over the summer and he feels cheated out of having it for so long. Auston's hands migrate to hold William steady at the hips.

He licks up delicately against the crack. "On your hands."

"Auston, I--"

"You still want his?"

William tilts suddenly, his hands hitting the mattress with a slight bounce. His eagerness puts a feral smile on Auston's mouth--he presses it against the skin of Willy's inner thigh. Auston kneels on the floor so he is flush against the bed, before he grips one of William's knees and maneuvers him to spread wider. To give Auston access.

"You're gonna come like this, okay? Just my mouth," he says. His voice has turned rough.

It makes William's whole body jerk, before he laughs nervously. "God, you're gonna make me suffer, aren't you?"

Auston places reassuring kisses on both cheeks, feeling the way the skin there prickles against his stubble. William is already shaking against him. 

His first taste is a rush, tongue catching at the rim. He uses his thumbs to spread William wider. Shifts to get closer even as he feels William push against him too. He gets lost for a few seconds just circling his tongue around his entrance, reveling as the muscle tries to clench against him. William's hole is getting slick with his saliva, and Auston watches in fascination at how flushed his skin looks, pink and hot. 

He traces a finger over it, buts jerks it away when William starts to push against him, tries to get him inside his heat.

Auston bites his cheek. "I said just my mouth."

William lets out a choking sob but says nothing more as Auston starts to lick him in earnest. He does push back against him, the muscles of his thighs straining beautifully underneath Auston's hands.

"That's right, baby. Focus on me."

He can feel it when it happens--William trembling against him. The fluttering of his hole until he clenches tight against Auston's tongue. He can hear William cry out as he comes, but he doesn't stop. Keeps his mouth sucking at the slick skin there. Jesus, the sounds William makes--whines and gasps and bitten-off moans, like he's losing his mind from just Auston's mouth. It. It's a lot of power to hand to someone.

William collapses on the bed when Auston lets go of him. His labored breathing is loud in the silence of the bedroom, but his voice is small when he says, "Auston? Where are you?"

"I'm still here. Hey, babe. I'm here."

His body angles towards the sound of Auston's voice, his frame trembling but singularly focused. A shaky hand reaches back for him. _Keep moving towards me_ , Auston thinks as he takes William's hand. _Everything else is noise_.

*

**Author's Note:**

> For the anon that sent me this on Tumblr: "u know i bet willy is frustrated as all hell rn since he can't seem to buy a goal & the rust is showing and all i can think of is aus taking him apart until he finally relaxes enough to get out of his own head and then fucking him not just into but through a mattress until willy couldn't tell u his own name but can definitely still remember auston's"
> 
> The interstitials here are quotes from Babcock as printed at mapleleafshotstove dot com. Am I sorry that I wrote the story around them? A little. But I bet Babs is also sorry he overworked Freddie Andersen and buried Justin Holl in the pressbox for a month, so we all have to live with our own regrets.


End file.
